Suck it up, Princess
by emptyonideas
Summary: With an obsessive mother, a run-away brother, and an easily flustered guard, I should be able to handle a temperamental king...I hope.  Edmund/OC
1. Chapter 1

Sometimes I start stories spur of the moment, and can't finish them, but I'm highly determined to see this one through. Anyone with me?

* * *

The queen had ordered Sophia to pack for me, but I was filling my own trunk as a last way to displease her. I also intended on taking every last dress she hated so she would sit and think about how awful and disrespectful I looked and how this reflected on her, the woman who was sending me away.

I smiled at the low-cut yellow dress that had been sent to me as a present from my somewhat mind-addled aunt. My mother practically burned it when it arrived. Top of the pile for that one.

With just my luck, she entered my room at that precise moment, without knocking, which was a normal occurrence ever since I'd tried to stow an injured bird in here weeks ago. She was flanked by her guard, who lingered rigidly near the doorway, glancing at me apprehensively. Ever since my brother had run away, my mother could explode at any moment, and I was most often her spark.

"Adonia, please, you look like a servant," the queen said, rolling her eyes as she swept across the floor and neared my bed. I saw her eye the yellow fabric in alarm.

I smiled sweetly and proudly presented a green dress from my closet which she thought "looked positively awful with my figure" and tucked it safely away before snapping the trunk lid shut.

"I gave Sophia the day off," I told her airily.

"Why would you do a thing like that?" she asked, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest.

"Her daughter is sick, and she needed to tend to her," I explained. "And I found these things at the ends of my arms today—I think they're called _hands_. Anyway, they've become quite useful in things such as folding clothes, shutting lids, it's fairly miraculous…"

"If you don't have a better attitude in Narnia, I'm afraid nobody will marry you," she said, pressing her lips in a thin, tight line that so accurately represented our current conversations.

"Would that be the worst thing? I mean, look at you and the King—"

"—Stop calling him the King, and me the Queen. We're your parents, whether you appreciate what we're trying to do for you or not."

"Collin's already left, and now you're sending me away. Excuse me if it doesn't quite make sense to me," I said harshly, crossing my arms. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time I'd said this, and since I was leaving tomorrow, it didn't seem to be sinking in.

"Archenland is not a big place, Adonia. You carry expectations as the King's daughter, and Narnia is a stepping stone for you to be married. With your brother gone, you are next in line to the throne. It's time to start acting like an adult," she said sternly, her eyes gleaming as hard and polished as the crown on her head.

"Well at least we don't have to be around each other," I muttered, going back to my closet and slamming the wooden doors rather forcefully.

"Excuse me?" she asked icily behind me.

I turned and gave her a wide smile.

"Nothing, _mother_," I said with a courtesy. "Since it's my last day, I will be walking around the castle grounds."

I moved past her and the guards hastily stepped out of my way. I saw Darrin, burly and stern, flicker into attention as I entered the doorframe. He'd been following me around enough to know when I was making a dramatic exit, I liked to move quickly.

"Don't expect me for dinner, Queen! And do tell the King I said hello!" I called at last moment, waving at my panic-stricken mother before I dashed down the hall, hoping she wouldn't call after me.

I had reached success after a couple of quick strides brought me to the stairwell.

"You're going to kill the Queen one day," Darrin said, matching my pace effortlessly as we reached the landing. I noticed the trace of a smile on his face, as he had gotten quite used to, and although he never admitted it, amused by my antics.

"Don't say such things Darrin," I chided with a small grin, going down the first step. "I think a small heart attack with suffice."

* * *

The truth was, despite all the grief I'd put everyone through, I wasn't entirely sad to be going. I would miss my room, and the familiar paths and most of all my animals, but I hadn't felt at home since Collin left. He apparently didn't think of it as home either, because he chose running away over being King. It had felt empty since his departure—a cold place where I suddenly didn't have someone on my side in arguments, someone to laugh with, and where my own brother didn't think about me before he left.

I looked at the Anvard, where I'd called home for the past seventeen years and sighed heavily. Collin and I always used to call it Big Rust because of the reddish hue of the stones and the way it seemed to be plopped in the middle of nowhere, like a forgotten tool outside. But now I was leaving and it suddenly never looked nicer. The grass was exceptionally green, the flags were particularly vibrant, and there was something increasingly regal about it.

I'd been to Narnia once before, but I couldn't muster up a picture in my mind. Whenever I tried, I fell short, and imagined horrible images of the Kings and Queens scorning my presence and wondering when it became their responsibility to host a silly princess.

Not to mention the monumentally massive hints that my mother made for me to "access my charming side" and "convince High King Peter I was worth considering." I'd never been particularly good at meeting people, much less listening to my mother's advice, so something told me Peter wouldn't take kindly to me.

"Are you alright Princess Adonia?" Darrin asked, peering in the same direction as I was in question.

I snapped from my daze, shaking my head a bit.

"Yes, Darrin," I said. "And please, just Adonia. How long has it been?"

"A long time I assure you," he said, bowing his head with the slightest bit of mocking in his tone.

I was glad I had broken him, because for a long time, it seemed he had a rather large sword stuck up his bum. I smiled and nodded, not being able to keep it up as my thoughts ventured to the place they seemed to go ever since I'd been told of my departure.

"Do you think they're really doing this for my own good?" I asked, turning to Darrin's steady dark gaze. "Or do you think they just want to be rid of me?"

"You can't let yourself think that way," he said, shaking his head. "I am not one to judge your parents' actions, but I do know they want what is best for you, especially since you'll be carrying on the line."

I frowned, knowing that was as much as I would get out of him, or anyone else. No one wanted to speak badly of their King and Queen, no matter how desperately I wanted to know their opinion.

"Do you think they'll like me in Narnia?" I asked, making my tone lighter in attempts to lift the heavy frown on his face.

"I think they'll be quite curious about you, princess," he said, unable to call me by just my first name yet again. I ignored it this time, and chuckled.

"And how lucky that you get to come with me!" I joked. "You must be doing something right," I said, finally moving away from the castle and for the path that led toward the stables. "That, or they're punishing you."

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head and trotting along beside me. "I think Narnia will be an interesting adventure. Don't you my lady?"

I shrugged my shoulders, feeling the wind pick up and move my hair around my shoulders.

"We'll see soon, I suppose."

* * *

Quick note:

I haven't read the Narnia books in...quite a while. So this is sort of going to be in my own made up time period, with perhaps more modern language than existed. Don't throw tomatoes at me if things are inaccurate. Just roll with it. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Two reviews are better than none! But less is not more here, so more would be...lovely. ;) Show your love for the chronic what? -cles of Narnia! Hope everyone likes it! More action next time.

* * *

My room was now void of everything that characterized it as my own. The drawings of the trees and the birds that I had sketched still hung on the walls, but with no scattered charcoal or parchment, it looked like they were rather part of the wallpaper than actually produced from a person. My dressers were for once, clean. There were a few vacant dresses still stuffed inside, but there were none spilling lazily out of the sides from my sloppiness. The bed was made and clean, without any shoes resting next to it, or books spread across it. I had taken each and every one of my favorites, not being able to decide which one to part with. Darrin had commented on the heaviness of that particular trunk just minutes ago when the guard carried them downstairs.

I looked around one last time, knowing I had to leave now so I could make my good-byes in the hall. I silently said good-bye to my room and shut the wooden door, bypassing a maid as I went the opposite way of the stairs.

Instead, I headed a few doors down where Collin's room was located. My mother treated the room like a plague—she would not go in, but she would not change a thing lest anyone else get infected. I entered slowly and quietly, hoping nobody was around to hear.

It was the same as I'd always remembered. The only sign of life was the crumpled bedspread, which had not been fixed after I'd slept in here for a week after my brother's disappearance.

I was furious at him, but I so badly wanted to see him.

He was by far a better artist than I was, and his own drawings still hung by his bed, save for a few empty spaces where he'd probably taken his favorites. I smiled at the bold black lines, tracing one with my finger. He was unsure of himself sometimes, but in his art his true confidence and humor came out. This particular picture was of me, climbing a tree rather ungracefully, after he'd dared me last year to get to the top.

I smiled at the memory, moving to the next picture. This one was of both of us. The detail was rather great—he must have looked in a mirror for his own image. We were both smiling widely, his arm around my shoulders. I bit my lip and tore the picture from the wall, stuffing it inside of my coat sleeve.

At least I wouldn't be entirely leaving him behind now.

I looked around as I exited, and seeing no one in either direction, shut the door carefully, and headed toward the staircase.

* * *

The inhabitants of the castle were divided into two groups: the ones that liked me, and the ones that didn't. Usually, the latter group was very close to my parents, and found me rather bratty and insufferable. The first group, however, were assembled around me as Darrin secured the horses and carriage we were taking to Narnia. I looked at them all a little teary eyed. It was very easy for people not to take my side on things here for fear of my parent's displeasure, but Sophia, her daughter Ninen, Corrina, and Darrius had really held me together the last few years.

"Just go easy on the jokes, miss, as some don't understand your intentions," Sophia advised, patting my arm with a soft smile.

"I'll miss you Adonia!" Ninen cried, leaping forward and attaching herself to my legs. I laughed, stooping forward to pick her up. She buried her dark head of curls into my shoulder and I kissed her head. I'd always wished she was my sister—Collin and I got along well, but it would've been nice to have a girl growing up.

"I'll miss you too kid," I said.

I put her into Sophia's arms instead, and turned to Corrina and Darrius. They worked in the kitchen and the armory, respectively, and both gave me sad smiles.

"Remember your favorite dishes of Narnia so I can make them for you when you visit," Corrina said, flipping her gray-streaked hair from her eyes.

"Of course," I said, reaching out to embrace her. I would miss the late night conversations we frequently had, and even more, the late night snacks that accompanied them.

"And you," I said, turning to Darrius. He smiled sheepishly—he was somewhat shy, but he taught me a lot about self-defense and standing up for myself, so I knew there was much more to him. He always defended me against my father who didn't think it was necessary for me to take lessons from Darrius, and I was grateful for the exercise and knowledge.

"Yes my lady?" he asked, leaning forward with a smile. He was about ten years older than me, but something about his bright smile made him seem much younger.

"I will miss you," I said with a grin. "But I will not forget what you've taught me!"

"Good thing, Princess," he said, offering me a hand which I warmly shook. "Because it was an honor to teach you."

"Thank you," I said, dropping his hand sadly.

"Princess Adonia, the horses are ready," a deep voice said behind me.

I turned to Darrin, who was standing straight and attentively, looking at me for confirmation. I nodded once before turning back to my small group.

"You will be great, princess, and if you have any troubles, send a messenger," Sophia whispered in my ear, patting my cheek once more before I had to depart.

"What will a messenger do? Are you going to gallop to Narnia?" I asked with a chuckle.

"No," she chuckled back. "But it will be nice to hear from you, good or bad."

"Thank you for everything," I said, "All of you."

They all nodded in respect, and I gave them one more smile before turning away. My shoes tapped against the stone floors as I walked down the torchlit hallway, which was rather dim because of the still rising sun.

The main doors were in sight when there was a shuffle of boots. That could only mean one thing—the guard.

It was arranged that a team of four would be accompanying me, and Darrin would be the one who stayed. My father "trusted Narnia" but he "felt safer with at least one well-known ally to watch after me." I didn't mind. Darrin had been following me for so long, I'd become as accustomed to him as my own shadow.

The guard fell into ranks as my father stepped forward, his crown gleaming brightly atop his graying hair. Everything about him was regal—not just his dress, but his mannerisms and the hard, determined gleam that never left his eyes. He loomed before me, a very tall man, and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Good luck, Adonia, I know you will represent Archenland well," he said, more of an order than an opinion.

"Yes father," I said, not meeting his gaze.

"Don't look so upset, child, Narnia is a nice place," he said, lifting my chin. "And if I'm not mistaken, you'll be glad to be away from the whims of your mother," he whispered.

I smiled now, unable to stay mad at him. My father was a good man. He would do anything for his kingdom, though, and I'm afraid that often times I did not come first.

"Thank you father," I said, mustering up as much energy as I could. "I'll visit on occasion, if you choose to send for me."

"Of course, dear," he said, leaning forward. I could feel his warmth as he kissed my forehead—something he had not done since I was a little girl. I felt a surge of sadness suddenly, like it had as I said good-bye to Sophia and the group.

"I will miss you, whether or not you believe it," my father said, winking once before straightening himself back into King mode.

"The Queen sends her good-byes, but she was feeling rather ill today," my father said at last, motioning a few men forward.

"These men will take you to Cair Paravel. Depending on the length of your journey, they may stay the night and return here in the morning, but as you know, Darrin will be staying with you there. It has all been discussed with King Peter. Queen Lucy and Queen Susan will welcome you when you arrive, so it's best you get started."

I nodded at his words, barely registering them as Darrin had a few hushed words with my father. He bowed before turning away, gesturing toward the large exit.

"Are you ready, princess?" he asked, a hand on his belt as the other guards assembled into line behind him.

I gave one last look to my father, who nodded with a small smile. Corrina and Sophia had peeked into the room from one of the many hallways and gave me the smallest of waves as they attempted to stay hidden. I smiled at all of them. Somehow, after everything, I still felt like I had to say good-bye to Collin—we had never taken a trip apart. Until his most current adventure, I suppose.

I swallowed down a bit of fright. As cheeky as I was with my mother, as off-putting as I was with the guard, and as lively I was with my servants, I felt like a horrible fake as I turned to walk out the doors.

Words escaped me even as Darrin heaved open the door for me and told me where to go. When it came down to it, I wasn't brave. I had never been away from home by myself. I had never felt like royalty, even with people tip-toeing around or waiting on me.

I didn't feel like a princess going on a magnificent adventure. I felt like a nuisance being sent away.

And most of all, I felt very, very small.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, hope you like this.

P.S. I switch from first to third person when I go from Adonia to Edmund, but I'm okay with it if you are.

* * *

"Someone has apparently been stealing from the gardens. A couple of moles saw them, but didn't get a good glimpse...I'm honestly not too worried about losing an apple or two, but it's the principle, and the outdoor guard has been particularly peeved about it."

Edmund couldn't help but be the slightest bit bored as Peter droned on about not so significant affairs of the castle while they walked through the hallway, which was surprisingly busy. Edmund focused more on the servants bustling past than his brother's speeches, because what he affectionately termed Peter's 'King-voice' was usually used for awfully dull matters.

"And Lucy said the infirmary was low on supplies, so we'll have to look into that..." Peter's voice said, trailing off as he tried to remember what else to tell Edmund.

Edmund had only really caught 'infirmary' and 'low'.

"Did they fill you on the change of guard?" Peter inquired.

Edmund noticed the sudden lapse of silence and registered that a comment must've required his response.

"Pardon?" he asked, hoping to play it off as hard of hearing rather than hard of paying attention.

"The guard change?" Peter sighed, knowing full well Edmund was in a not so sporting mood, and he might as well not even bother to get angry.

"Yes," Edmund replied, slowly filtering back into attention, thankful that Peter didn't press it. His mind wandered to the guard. At last a matter that was at least partially interesting. He liked his important duties, not the trivial ones of gardens and supplies. Personally, he preferred the animal guards the best—often they were less chatty or judgmental of his moods, but Peter was speaking of the newest man for the job.

"I've heard Lucas is an excellent swordsman," Peter said lightly. "Don't worry, thought, I'm sure your status will remain in tact. Even if you haven't practiced in a fair amount of days," Peter said, hoping to loosen his brother's spirits.

Edmund's eyes widened in protest but just as he was about to reply, the guard opened the upcoming door for them and the blast of noise was instantaneous. He heard loud thumps, chattering voices, soaring laughter, and the undertones of a couple of curses and shouts of pain. His eyes scanned over the brightly lit room, which was a bustle of activity and he turned to Peter curiously.

"What are Lucy and Susan decorating so lavishly for?" Edmund asked as he eyed the plush fabrics that were now draped across every imaginable surface of the hall. "It looks like we're hosting a grand party."

"Are you hard of hearing, or do you just have an impossibly horrible memory?" Peter asked, chancing Edmund's reaction and shaking his head with slight amusement in his eyes.

"What?" Edmund asked, frowning. Maybe he hadn't been paying too much attention at breakfast—so what? He really couldn't be bothered when Susan was droning on and he had more important things to attend to—namely, his food.

"Princess Adonia is arriving today," Peter reminded him as they nearly reached Susan and Lucy's spot in the center of the room. "Susan only talked about it throughout the entire meal, and Lucy has been mentioning it for _weeks_."

"Oh yes, the girl from Archenland, I can hardly wait," Edmund said with an eye roll.

"I've heard she's a curious girl," Peter said, shrugging his shoulders. "At any rate, we're going to be gracious hosts, and please remember your manners," Peter said pointedly, fixing Edmund with a stern glance.

"Of course," Edmund said, "If I'm not welcoming and cheery, I just don't know how I'll live with myself."

Peter rolled his eyes but kept his mouth in a smile as Lucy bounded over to them.

"If you put a damper on her mood, I'll make sure you won't have to live with yourself. Or at all," Peter whispered, nodding at Edmund before Lucy pulled him away in a different direction.

"That was not a very king-like thing to say!" Edmund called after him.

"I'm not the _Just_ one!" Peter called back with a laugh.

Edmund rolled his eyes—he liked when Peter wasn't being entirely somber, but now it was just getting irritating. He looked around the room which was now adorned with rich reds and browns, lined in gold trim. Even the servants looked especially well-pressed—the humans ones of course. But he could swear he passed Susan's leopard and even he looked a bit more groomed.

"All this for one girl?" he asked, shaking his head, talking to no one in particular.

He dodged an oncoming kitchen worker whose arms where piled with their best silverware and then nearly tripped over another worker with a stack of plates. It was then he decided he should get out of there—before he got injured, or worse, was forced into helping.

He made sure Lucy and Susan were busy giving orders and fixing flower arrangements before he turned and dashed from the room.

* * *

I was walking through the forest which was shrouded in darkness. There was a little light filtering through the trees, but that only made the shadows stretch longer as I crept through the underbrush. Sticks snapped beneath my feet as I looked around apprehensively. I was scared that I was completely alone—it was unnatural not to see at least one creature by now in these woods.

I moved slowly, stopping abruptly as I heard the tearing of fabric. I looked down to my red, dirty sleeve and saw that it was caught on a branch. I would have cared if I didn't already look like an utter mess, so I just freed myself and continued moving.

The wind picked up now, causing a frenzy of sound in the air. The scattered leaves and shaken branches embraced me with noise, but it was quickly overtaken by a more piercing one—wailing.

I jumped in surprise, clutching my heart as the sound assaulted my ears. My eyes darted around for the source. I groped forward, snapping even more twigs and crunching leaves as I surged toward the cries. They seemed to reverberate through my entire body, ringing in every nerve as I moved closer.

Finally I squinted through the shadows and saw a sliver of pale human flesh from a spot on the ground. I kneeled forward to the wailing body and searched for the face, which was covered by two large hands and a sprout of long, mussed hair.

"What is the matter?" I asked frantically, placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "What has happened?"

The cries were choked for a moment as he lowered his hands. As I adjusted to the darkness I noticed in sickening realization that the front of his shirt was stained with crimson. I peered into his now visible face and choked back my own sob.

"Collin?"

He didn't answer. Groans were still lingering on his lips, but I could see the realization in his eyes. My stomach twisted so painfully that I thought if I wasn't already on the ground, it certainly would have brought me to my knees.

"Oh Collin," I breathed, touching his face and shoulders and chest, searching for a sign of injury.

He just continued to moan and writhe as my hands got increasingly stained. I swallowed bile as I grew more frustrated—where was the blood coming from? What had happened? Would he not speak?

"Say something!" I demanded harshly, not able to conceal the sob from my voice.

He only shook his head, no longer wailing. His eyes, once bright and lively, looked dull and faded, and I knew it wasn't just because of the dim light.

"Say anything," I begged, grabbing his hands and clutching them to my chest.

Why wouldn't he speak? I was suddenly enraged—he had run away, left me to worry for him every moment, and here he was, hurt but in front of me and I _still_ could not reach him.

"What happened? Why won't you talk to me?" I spat, tears now flowing freely from my eyes as my heart pounded heavily against my chest. I thought my insides would explode if he didn't say something.

His mouth was open slightly, and his lips were dry and cracked, but the only thing I heard was the deep rattle of his labored breaths.

If I wasn't staring at him, I barely would have noticed what he was doing. Slowly, almost painfully, he shook his head, only a fraction of an inch, before offering the smallest, vaguest of smiles. There was still a ghost of it on his face as his eyes slowly closed.

"No!" I yelled, shaking my head furiously as my tears fell and wet his dirt-streaked cheeks. "Stop it! Wake up! Say something!"

But his eyes stayed closed, and I could no longer hear any rattling of breath. I stared at him for a few moments, my beautiful brother, with his dark curly hair and once knowing, deep brown eyes. With world-crushing realization, I realized he wasn't going to say anything to me. He would never say anything again.

And that's when I started to scream.

* * *

"I didn't realize every creature of Narnia was attending," Edmund whispered to Peter as they peered over the ever-crowding hall. He was as slumped forward in his throne as he could be without looking disrespectful, and was quite frankly not looking forward to the evening. It wasn't that he didn't like banquets or parties, he just didn't care for the elaborate introduction the princess was bound to have, or the countless mindless conversations he was expected to have.

"We haven't had a visitor in quite some time," Peter noted, sitting proud and tall in his chair, and unlike Edmund, smiling every so often. "They were excited. And it is a good chance to show Archenland that we commend our relationship and peace with them."

"Most of them probably just fancied a good dinner," Edmund excused, eyeing the larger creatures of the group.

"I do wonder when the princess will be arriving, it is getting late," Peter said with a frown, casting a look toward the windows and the darkening sky.

"I don't know, but if she doesn't come soon, I'll eat my own hand off," Edmund said sulkily, resting his hand on his palm as he stared longingly toward the food tables.

"Don't be so dramatic," Peter said, waving his hand. "She'll probably be here any moment."

Edmund spotted a small group of fauns heading their way. Hoping to detain pointless chatter, he continued to talk to Peter in hopes they wouldn't want to interrupt.

"You said before that the princess was _curious_," Edmund noted, recalling their previous conversation, hoping to engage Peter.

"I've just a heard a few things," Peter shrugged, "I do not want to judge her without knowing her first."

"She's a princess," Edmund sighed, "We've met those before. Save Susan and Lucy, most royal girls are rather..._boring_. Self-centered. I wouldn't get your hopes up."

"Like I said, we should wait to judge," Peter said, suddenly looking toward the wide entryway.

"I wouldn't expect anything great," Edmund said, following Peter's gaze.

"We shall see," Peter said, watching a new group enter. "I think she's coming now."

* * *

"Princess!"

I heard the shout, but it sounded quite far away, like I was trapped underwater and the noise was on the surface.

"Princess Adonia!"

This sounded closer, and I felt my senses gaining composure as a rough hand shook my shoulder.

"Adonia!"

It was my name that did it—it sounded so strange on the tongue of what I soon realized was Darrin. He was perched over me in the carriage, his face not betraying emotion as his dark hair fell into his eyes. My vision and feeling filtered back but I could sense my dream lingering in my still wildly beating heart.

"Are you alright princess? Your screams have nearly woken the whole forest," Darrin said. "Was it your nightmares again?"

"Yes," I said slowly, sitting up apprehensively. I touched all my limbs and looked down at my hands which were shaking and pale, but thankfully, unstained.

"But you are doing alright now?" Darrin asked, his hand subconsciously on his sword, even though even its power could not chase my dreams away.

"I think so," I said lowly, pressing a hand to my chest to relax it. "Just a little anxious."

Darrin nodded, taking a seat once more. He was used to my nightmares—they'd happened frequently in the last three months, ever since Collin left. I'd never told Darrin what they were about, but for someone so tough and stern, he could actually read me rather acutely. When he wasn't flustered over my irrationality, that is.

"I hope you feel better very soon, my lady," Darrin suddenly said, turning his attention to me once more.

"Why's that?" I asked curiously, raising my head a little to try and look around me.

"Because I can see the castle now," Darrin said, raising an eyebrow. "And I can imagine they're awaiting your arrival."

* * *

It took me all of three seconds after stepping out of the carriage to lose my balance completely and soil my red dress in thick, brown mud.

"Oh no," I breathed. I looked down at my coated, ruined shoes and poor, stained dress as Darrin assessed the situation with a sigh. It was just perfect—here I was, at a castle that already looked much nicer than the Anvard, meeting Kings and Queens that I wanted to charm, and I looked like I'd just had a romp in the forest.

"Well we can't have you going into Narnia like that," Darrin noted, gesturing to a guard that stood beside him. "Get the princess her trunk from the back, she'll have to change right away. Nathaniel, take the rest of the men into the castle and inform them that we are here and about to come inside."

As I watched most of the guard march away and waited for the rest to get my things, I took note of the castle. It was bright and beaming from inside, even though I couldn't quite notice the fine details because night had started to fall. We were stopped right near the gardens, which I could still see the vague outlines of from the moonlight. The trees reminded me eerily of my dreams, so I began to move a little farther away from the carriage.

Darrin was too absorbed to notice, and I took advantage of it. It wasn't often that I simply got to explore on my own—my parents never trusted me going too far, especially without Collin or Darrin coming along. I ran my fingers over the passing leaves and continued to look around.

I was a few yards away from Darrin when I heard something moving swiftly near me. Panic seized as I thought of my eerie dream. I looked around frantically—what was that noise? It sounded like something running full force.

My heart leaped into my throat as I opened my mouth to call Darrin, but my words were lost when I was suddenly tackled to the ground.

* * *

Edmund watched as four men flanked a rather disgruntled, dirty looking girl into the hall. Edmund squinted, almost positive his eyes must be cheating him. Why was she so filthy? And why a Narnian guard standing beside her, also filthy? Was _this_ the princess? She must be taking her title rather lightly if it was...

He shared a puzzled look with Peter as the group approached. The crowd which had been buzzing when the doors opened was now even louder with speculation as the princess neared their thrones.

She seemed horribly unfazed, but Edmund theorized that it must be an act, because beneath the specks of mud on her cheeks, he could tell that her face was a fresh color of red. Her guard did not look very happy as they stood beside her, frowns heavily engraved on their faces.

"What exactly is going on here?" Peter addressed his guard, sweeping his eyes across everyone in a way that scrutinized and demanded at the same time.

"High King Peter," the guard said, bowing in front of him. "We had a small..._miscommunication_."

"What exactly was the nature of this miscommunication?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It was a mistake, Your Highness, that I gravely regret, but I seem to have taken Princess Adonia as the thief that has been taking from our gardens."

Peter's mouth turned to a thin line as he closed his eyes and soothed the wrinkled nerve in his forehead. Edmund couldn't help but imagine the scene—this girl, who looked no larger than five feet, getting tackled by a skilled guard who thought she was stealing some fruit. It would've been comical if Susan and Lucy didn't look horrified and Peter didn't look ready to explode.

"That is _quite_ a mistake," he said, narrowing his eyes at the guard who looked crestfallen. "Did you really think such a finely dressed lady with a guard was a thief?"

"I've been called worse," the princess piped up, shrugging her shoulders.

"I didn't think anything of the sort!" the guard exclaimed in worry. "It was just so dark, and her guard was not near, and I only saw a figure in the gardens."

"Princess Adonia, please mind our manners!" Lucy exclaimed, suddenly rushing forward. "We are _so_ sorry this happened, we wanted nothing more than a warm welcome."

The dirty princess smiled now. Edmund noticed that she might be pretty under all that mud, but it was rather hard to tell.

"Please, do not worry about it," the princess said. "I never want any one to feel bad on my account. Except maybe my mother..." She covered her mouth quickly, looking to the largest guard on her right who merely shook his head. "Did I say that outloud?" she whispered.

Edmund almost choked, but masked it as a small cough.

"I'm sorry," the princess apologized, turning back to them. "I tend to talk a lot when I'm nervous. My father always says I'm missing the block between my mind and my mouth."

Lucy just shook her head with a smile, and embraced her hands regardless.

"This is Peter, Susan, and Edmund," Lucy said, pointing to each of them as she named them. "And I'm Lucy. Welcome to Cair Paravel."

"It's quite lovely," the princess complimented, smiling at all of them in turn and curtseying slightly. Edmund managed a small nod back before she turned her attention back to Lucy. "Too lovely to trek mud through. If don't mind, I'd like to change before I ruin your floors. Is there somewhere I can go?"

"Oh, of course, someone will take you right away!" Lucy said, calling forward a servant.

"Before you go, Warner, have you apologized to Princess Adonia?" Peter suddenly broke in, just as she was about to turn away.

"Yes, King Peter, I apologized profusely, and I will say once more that I'm deeply sorry," the guard said, sweat visible on his forehead as he addressed the smiling princess.

"That's alright, Warner, I was quite dirty already. And first impressions can be dreadful—for instance, I thought you were a lanky man, but I've come to learn that you have quite a defensive tackle," she said lightly, smiling.

Edmund nearly choked again—he'd never heard a lady have such an..._interesting_ attitude before. Warner didn't seem to recognize if she was joking or not, so he simply bowed before she was led from the room. Edmund watched her go, a flash of red and brown leaving muddy footsteps behind her.

"So, what do you judge now that you've met her?" Edmund asked, leaning toward Peter with interest.

"It seems the people were right," Peter said, shaking his head in amusement.

"And I was wrong," Edmund stated. "_Very_ wrong."


	4. Chapter 4

I finally finished my other story, so more time for this one. Hopefully people are still with me here. :)

* * *

I woke up exhausted after my welcoming last night, which consisted of being pulled in nearly every direction to talk to nearly every creature I could think of. I barely even had time to sit with the kings and queens, but my nervousness was somewhat abated after Lucy had been so kind to me. And on the upside, it was so tiring that I didn't have one nightmare.

I rolled from my bed, the floor chilling my warm feet. My room here was just as big as my one from home, but looked rather empty as I had yet to put any personal touches in it. Smiling slightly, I crept over to where my trunks and coat laid and rummaged through them for a moment before pulling out the picture.

It had gotten a little crumpled during the ride, but Collin's face smiled back at me in the same dark lines that his hand had etched. I touched it once, trying to not to overwhelm myself before I propped it into a mirror edge that stood in the corner of the room. It stuck out a little, but stayed put.

I turned around, unable to look any more, and decided to get going.

I looked toward the heavy oak door and saw Darrin's shadow under the door frame. I smiled—he had never been late or absent from my side. After I got dressed in one of my lightest gowns and threw a cloak around myself, I threw open the door.

Darrin jumped a little, his hand flying to his sword but perching there as he saw it was me.

"Good morning Princess," he greeted as usual, nodding his head.

"Darrin," I said, nodding back. "Are you ready to explore?"

I hadn't even had a proper look around the castle, let alone the outside, so I knew today would be a busy day.

"I'm here to follow you," he said, fixing his jacket as I looked down the hallway. It was empty save for another guard, who was absorbed in his own mind.

"Great," I said, smiling. "Wasn't last night fun?" I asked, thinking of meeting the polite Beavers, a lovely pair of moles, and a tired but kind Brown Bear. I didn't normally have much to say, but the conversation with them flowed rather nicely. Plus, I was talked onto the dance floor by a rather lively faun while his friend played cheerful music—and I'll admit that he was much better than I was.

"Yes, it was a nice party," Darrin said, following as I began to go toward the stairs. "And after the incident in the gardens, you handled yourself quite nicely. I think you made a good impression," he complimented.

"Don't worry, there's still time," I said with a wink, descending the stairs with a smile.

I could imagine his hidden eye roll as I lightly trailed my fingertips against the gray stone, feeling the bumps and ridges as I went toward what I thought was a door. I squinted ahead through the torchlight and noticed a much brighter light at the bottom of what I hoped would lead me outside. When we reached the last stair, I saw a few creatures bustling around and servants going in and out of the doorways with trays of food.

"Won't you sit for breakfast my lady?" Darrin asked, eyeing the plates as I did.

Suddenly faced with the prospect of being with just the kings and queens, alone, with no party guests in between to distract them, I felt oddly nervous. I was never good in small situations. My mind made horrible polite chatter. If I was lucky, I could sneak into the kitchens later and hope there was a cook like Corrina who could give me a snack later.

"Have you eaten?" I asked.

"Yes, I had a bite this morning."

"Well then, let's just go. I'm stuffed from last night, and I think some fresh air would do me better than anything," I said, continuing my path toward the door and away from the wafting smell of bread.

"As you wish," Darrin said, bowing his head and going back into his rigid stance.

I smiled once before he pressed open the door and we walked into the sunshine.

* * *

"Watch your step, we don't want you spoiling your dress again," Darrin reminded as I nearly tripped over a tree trunk as we stepped into the borders of the wood.

Despite nearly face-planting into the mossy ground, I smiled. It felt nice to be outside instead of the castle—with the freedom of the fresh air and the sound of birds singing instead of chatter of guards or clanks of boots.

"We won't go far," I protested, looking up into the treetops. "I just want to have a quick look around."

"The last time you said that I turned away and you were halfway up a tree," Darrin said sulkily, keeping his eyes on our surroundings as usual.

"Collin dared me," I said childishly in defense, crossing my arms and secretly looking at how tall these trees were.

"Your father and I had a word when we left the Anvard," Darrin said, suddenly looking at me expectantly. I was interested—Darrin didn't so frequently talk to me unless I prompted it or was in some sort of danger, so it must have been important. I turned my attention to him, walking slower now.

"What did he say?" I asked, treading lightly and fighting off a stubborn branch that had caught a thread of my sleeve.

"Just to have caution when you speak of your brother," he said pointedly. "I know sometimes your mouth gets away from you, but the King and Queen did their best to keep the news of your brother's departure away from the gossiping ears and mouths of the people."

The cheeky remark that bubbled up made me feel like I was in the presence of my mother, but I reminded myself that Darrin was just relaying orders.

"Yes," I promised, shaking my head. "But I don't see how much longer they can keep it up—it's not exactly as if just ran off to take a holiday somewhere," I muttered.

Darrin either didn't hear or didn't care to answer, so I just trod a slightly worn path between the trees, taking in the sights and sounds. Lucy mentioned in passing last night that she danced with them, and I caught a hint of that merriment in a swirl of petals that livened my step and caused me to glide onward.

I barely heard Darrin behind me, despite his size, but I guessed that was part of his job—to be sneaky but always on guard. I tried to ignore him for the moment, and let his troublesome words slip from my mind as I twisted my way through the forest.

Ravens lingered on the branches above me, hopping among the leaves as I trailed underneath, peering upwards. There was some scuffle near my feet but I couldn't see anything except the flash of white fur—I searched but realized the rabbits must not be too interested in me.

I continued on, hearing the songs of birds slowly die as I moved farther along the edge of the wood. Darrin's boots crunched somewhat louder now, and I looked back for a moment, seeing his eyes fixed on a point to the left of us, in the direction of the castle.

"Is something the matter?" I asked, looking where his eyes were trained, and suddenly feeling slightly nervous.

"I just thought I heard something," he said, not taking his eyes away. I started to hear rustling too, and saw Darrin start to unsheath his sword and beckon me behind him. I peered around his large frame and watched his muscles tense as the rustling turned into footsteps which turned into soldiers, poised with their own weapons.

I almost screamed as a cautionary arrow whizzed through the air, a foot above my head, but frightening all the same. My ribs ached as my heart had a small frenzy, and I could hear the arrow fall somewhere on the leafy ground.

"Don't move Princess," Darrin commanded, just as the soldiers got close enough to touch.

One of them had his bow strapped to his back, and one arrow trained on Darrin's chest, who stood ready to spring forward.

"Wasn't planning to," I said, trying to calm my beating heart.

"Who are you?" a gruff voice rang out.

* * *

Edmund saw his brother arguing with the guards a mile away. He had the heated way of talking with his arms flying everywhere, but Edmund knew from experience that Peter's words were enough to pierce someone. He hurried toward the group interestedly, always wanting to hear his brother yell at someone. It was surprisingly entertaining when he wasn't on the opposite end.

"—again?" he heard Peter exclaim, pressing a hand to his forehead. "She's going to think Narnia is after her!"

"They didn't tell anyone she would be in the forest," the head guard was saying, bowing his head. "And no one fired arrows directly at her—the situation was resolved before then."

"Thank Aslan no one fired at her!" Peter cried, taking a chance to look at each of the guards. "From now on, make sure we know Princess Adonia's whereabouts and that we _don't_ try to attack her again."

"Yes King Peter," the guard said, bowing his head again and stalking away slowly, his men following rigidly.

Edmund stifled a laugh—what had happened now? He knew Narnia was probably making a poor impression, but twice in the span of a few hours? What were the chances?

"Trouble with Miss Archenland?" Edmund asked merrily, smiling at his worn brother.

"They almost hunted her down in the forest Ed," Peter sighed. "I am about to get a whole new guard."

"Don't go through the trouble for me, King Peter."

They both looked up at the new voice, accompanied by the princess who looked flushed but no worse for wear. Edmund's interest peaked but he had no idea why—probably because without war or conflict, he'd felt awfully bored lately, and she was stirring things up.

"Oh, I didn't see you there Princess," Peter said, nodding at her guard who looked hostile as ever standing beside her. "I'm terribly sorry, once _again_."

"Don't worry King Peter," she addressed, giving a small courtesy. "It could have been worse—I once visited a castle and got tackled to the ground," she said lightly, but Edmund noticed she seemed somewhat shy after speaking, and kept her eyes on the ground.

Edmund almost laughed aloud again, even more at Peter's face, which was a mix of sheepish amusement.

"Try not stealing our apples next time," Edmund joked, partly because he wanted to see her reaction, and partly because he felt awfully stupid on the outskirts of the conversation.

The princess looked up now, sending him the smallest of smiles despite the fact that her guard had stiffened next to her.

"You seem to be attracting a lot of attention," Peter finally commented, nodding his head.

"Sorry," she said, biting her lip. "I thought trouble attracted me just in Archenland, but it seems to have followed me here."

"That's alright," Peter said, smiling slightly. "We're used to it actually, as we've gotten in quite a bit of trouble ourselves. Shall we go inside now?" he asked, gesturing toward the castle doors where two guards waited expectantly.

"Of course," she said, summoning her guard to follow her as they all began to walk toward the doors.

"What were you doing in the forest anyway? You've missed breakfast and it's nearly lunch," Peter pointed out, looking from the corner of his eye at the princess who seemed to be getting more comfortable the longer they talked.

"The usual—climbing trees and getting shot at," she jested, smiling wickedly.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're a little strange?" Edmund asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Edmund!" Peter chided angrily, throwing him a glare. He could tell he was about to get a mouthful of some reprimand, and was about to defend himself before someone else spoke.

"—Yes," the princess cut in before he could respond to Peter. "But they usually say unique as not to hurt my feelings," she added with a happy smile.

"I apologize for my brother," Peter said, rolling his eyes in his usual kingly better-than-you fashion.

"It's alright," the princess said, looking at Edmund. "Has anyone ever told you you're a little hostile?"

Edmund smiled back now, having never been able to joke around with a girl this way, or even his own siblings. They often quarreled with his sarcasm at the drop of his hat, but it seemed to roll right over her shoulders.

"Yes, but they say bold as not to hurt my feelings," Edmund replied in her fashion.

Peter ignored them both now and signaled the guards to open the doors as they finally reached the castle entrance. Edmund's stomach growling told him that it was time for lunch, and his mouth practically watered as the smell of cooking food met him when they walked into the front hall.

"What were you really doing in the woods?" he asked, to avoid a heavy silence as they all walked toward the dining hall.

"You don't believe what I said before?" the princess asked, raising her eyebrows at him. He felt slightly irritated—she masked herself in such humor that he honestly could not tell when she was joking or not.

"I can't tell if you're lying," he admitted, scrunching his eyebrows as he studied her light but guarded expression.

"I sometimes have a habit of exaggeration," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "You will get used it. But just for arguments sake, I _have_ climbed trees. To the very top," she added proudly.

"What a lady," Edmund grunted.

"That's not nice," she protested, frowning as they heard the clinking of dishes.

He noticed the ease she gained in the last few minutes seemed to diminish the closer they got to the dining hall. It wasn't hard to see that for all her offhand comments she was a shy girl—something that had perplexed him since last night.

"Nervous?" he asked, looking at her clenched hands and short steps.

"No," she said loudly, looking up at him.

"I think you're lying now," he observed, slowing his pace so he could walk beside her.

"_Should_ I be nervous?" she asked instead, just as Peter entered the dining hall doors.

"_Loads_ of people do eat with us," Edmund said with a shrug. "So you'll have to be careful with your manners, and your conversation. Just keep to Narnian custom, and I'm sure you'll be alright."

He noticed her gulp visibly and smiled, entering the room before her and watching as she took a quick survey. To his delight, only Peter was now seated at the front of the table, with no one but servants around. Her eyes widened and she turned to Edmund with a small glare.

"_You're_ a filthy liar," she said under her breath, just as he moved to take a seat beside Peter. No one but him noticed she said anything, even her guard who positioned himself behind her.

He just laughed as she took a seat across the table, her cheeks flushed in a deep, rosy red.


	5. Chapter 5

As I watched Peter, Susan, Lucy, and Edmund laugh about something as they ate their breakfast, I felt a strange stir in my stomach that longed to sit down with them and also wanted to run straight out the castle doors. I always felt like an intrusion among people who obviously knew each other well, and although my royal status never allowed anyone to say it, I felt that people resented my company many times in the past.

The difference was that I actually cared what these people thought about me.

This was quite a change from the past of course. I had done about everything I could to displease my mother—wear scandalous clothes, lose my manners at the dinner table, ride horses and pants like a boy, and even worse to her, treat our servants like equals. I knew deep down that I loved her, even if it was just because I felt I had to, but I had never had a single worry of her distaste for my actions.

I knew when her eyes were upon me. I knew when her closest advisors, under her careful authority, greeted me with guarded scorn. It hurt, yes, but after years I'd built up a tolerance and actually turned it into a game.

So what was wrong with me now?

Why did I blush when I let an unguarded thought slip? Why did I worry about how dirty my shoes were when Susan embraced my arm in the hallway? Why did I study Lucy's face to see if she was laughing at me with malice or if it was simply with me, like I hoped?

I'd never expected to want to fit in here.

But now that I was here, it seemed painfully obvious that it was exactly what I wanted. That in place of Collin, someone else could understand me too, and not treat me like I'd been accidentally born into the wrong family.

They weren't looking at me with malice. They did seem surprised at some of the things my mouth ungraciously uttered, but besides an offhand comment here and there, I felt comforted here.

And for some odd reason, that scared me beyond belief.

I looked once more in the dining room, and turned on my heel. Darrin sent me a suspicious look, but didn't say anything as I walked back to my room.

* * *

What was the matter with me? I put my head in my hands as I sat on my bed, legs crossed, fingers bunched in the white fabric of my bedspread. My knuckles were white to compensate for the redness of my fingertips. I could only imagine what color my face was.

I tried to take a breath, but the air seemed too thick to inhale. When did it get like this? Why did I feel like choking?

I could hear my mother's voice in my head as I stared at the letter in front of me. Her swirly handwriting spoke for itself—_I am better than you, and you are a nuisance. You will never live up to who you are supposed to be._

I hadn't opened it since I got here. Since she was ill when I left, Darrin had told me on our journey that she'd slipped a letter in my luggage, and it had been poking at the corners of my mind like a pesky bird.

I let go of the quilt in my hands and picked it up tentatively, turning it over a few times as I looked toward my mirror, where I'd stuck the picture of Collin and I. He was never good at talking to my mother either...

_"Mother, do you really think this dinner is a good idea?" Collin asked, looking rather deflated in the mirror as she fussed around him in a circle._

_I watched from a chair in the corner, smiling at his bad attitude and my mother's even worse enjoyment. She loved setting up dinners with people so she could parade us around and expose Collin to the "people he would one day be ruling." She had the insane idea that the only way they'd take him seriously was to plop him in a party and make sure he spoke to everyone. _

_"Father isn't even here, I should have gone with him to that meeting," Collin complained, trying to fix his crown. "Why won't this lie straight?" he grumbled._

_"It's your head, crooked as ever—I've told you that before," I said with a grin, glad that I'd gotten ready earlier and my mother was scrutinizing him instead of me._

_"You should talk, Adonia," Collin said, sticking his tongue out. "I can see the dirt under your fingernails from here."_

_"Collin, please, does the future king stick his tongue out?" my mother sighed. "I don't know how I've raised two such ill mannered children. Even with all the classes you've taken."_

_"We know the courtesies, mother," Collin said, trying to win back her good mood. _

_"Of course you do," she said, patting his cheek. She'd always liked him better—he was sincere in wanting her approval, even if she nagged him all the time. "Will you try and teach your sister?"_

_I was about to open my mouth in protest when Collin frowned._

_"She does, mother," Collin said, rolling his eyes. "You don't see it because you're too busy looking for the worst. But the people love her—they think she's charming, and doesn't act above them."_

_I grinned widely—Collin never failed to defend me when my mother's tongue came lashing. He was the only one in the castle who seemed unafraid of her wrath on my behalf. But the smile was short-lived._

_"She's a princess," my mother said, glaring at me. "She __**is**__ above them. And she has a lot to learn."_

I'd never forgotten that moment. Collin had looked apologetic, but he could only do so much. I was just thankful that he would be the King before I ever ruled, and I could maybe live out my days in peace while my mother looked to him.

But now he was gone, and she was left with me—it would have been funny, if I didn't make a complete disaster at everything. The one time I made a toast I'd dropped my goblet. The time I heard grievances from the public I ended promising a family four horses, and my father had been livid. And more than once I had run into important people while in complete shambles, twigs sticking out of my hair.

I ripped open the envelope just to stop thinking.

_Dearest Adonia,_

_Your father seems to think that you are under the impression we are sending you away because we cannot handle you. I was not surprised you jumped to these conclusions, but once again, I have your best intentions in mind. We sent you to Narnia to quell your rebellion and see how royalty who is close to your age can behave. Queen Susan, for instance, is the picture of refinement. _

_It's time to stop climbing trees and trotting off on horses Adonia. You're not a little girl anymore, and you should never have behaved that way if you were a true lady. Behave yourself in Narnia, and learn a thing or two. You don't need anything else ruining your reputation, or no one will ever take you seriously. _

_Your mother, _

_Queen Grace_

My fingers shook as I put it down. She never liked when I went outside with Collin. She always wanted to keep me indoors, drinking tea and reading documents and having luncheons. She couldn't understand that I was completely different from her.

As I sucked in a harsh breath, I heard a brisk knock on my door. I threw the letter aside and smoothed my skirts as I walked to open it, not really in the mood to talk to anyone.

I drew the door open and saw Queen Susan on the other side. I thought of what my mother said, and almost resented Susan for it, but it was hard when she had been so nice to me. She _was_ refined, but she was also brave and kind, and I couldn't fault her for my mother's approval.

"Good morning," she said, with a small smile. "Did I disturb something?" she asked, eyeing my wrinkled covers and the paper I'd thrown aside.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Just a...letter from the Queen."

"You do that a lot you know," Susan said with a glint in her eyes.

"What?" I asked, wringing my hands together as she moved a little closer in the room.

"Call your mother 'The Queen.' Do you not get along?"

"Well…" I trailed off, thinking. Should I spread this around? It could become the gossip of the castle in no time, I knew, but I also knew Susan would not say anything. And any look from my mother toward me guaranteed it was no secret she disapproved.

"My mother doesn't like how I behave," I said, delicately phrasing it. "She wants me to be more…dutiful. Watch proceedings, learn better manners."

"Is that why you never want to sit in on the royal matters Peter oversees?" she asked boldly, raising an eyebrow at me.

I frowned, a small blush creeping up my neck with hot fingers. I had hoped no one would notice my reluctance when they asked me to go. It felt like she'd somehow delved into my mind.

"Maybe," I shrugged.

Susan laughed a little. "Edmund has the same stubborn streak as you. If someone tells him to do something, he almost always tries to do the opposite."

"Not the best quality for leaders, huh?" I asked, rubbing my neck uncomfortably.

"Well with stubbornness comes passion," Susan said with a smile, reaching out to squeeze my hand.

"So what did your mother say?" Susan asked, her eye caught by the discarded letter on my bed.

"Don't embarrass her," I said, offering her a smile.

"How about this?" Susan asked, looking at me. "We go outside all day. I've been dying to shoot around a bit, and we can watch the boys practice swords."

"That sounds wonderful," I said, my chest instantly lightening. The fear from seeing them this morning had lifted, and I suddenly felt my self-consciousness leak away.

"If you really want to prove your mother wrong," Susan said, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the room. "You'd go to meetings. You'd learn customs and how to deal with people. And you could shock her with how you handle things."

"That is a good point," I said, letting her drag me toward the stairs, Darrin in tow.

"It is," she agreed, laughing as I almost tripped on the first stair.

We flew down the rest, Darrin's belt jingling behind us as Susan told someone walking by to call for Lucy.

And when we emerged outside, the sunlight soaking my chilled skin and birds singing in the air, I noticed that the air was somehow lighter here.

I took a deep breath.


	6. Chapter 6

Much faster than last time, huh? :)

* * *

The red draped room was filled and the table so crowded that a faun actually had to stand up so Edmund could take his seat. He did so quickly, aware of Peter's accusing eyes on him for his tardiness, and laced his fingers together as the group settled down around him. He chanced a quick look at his brother, and gave his scowl an extra-bright smile. Peter merely shook his head, adjusting the parchment in front of him as he addressed the crowd.

Edmund loved grievance day. That wasn't the official title, of course, but a happy nickname he'd come up with after the first few meetings. They were supposed to be advising their people on matters of their choice, but it often just turned into a room to argue.

And Edmund was rather good at arguing.

"Alright, since the centaurs had voiced their concern last time, the dwarves may go first," Peter said, looking up at the dwarf who sat directly opposite to him. "Binnbrik, you wish to speak?"

"Thank you King Peter," the dwarf said, bowing his head slightly. His beard draped across the grain of the table, the dark black tangles moving as he spoke. "It's a territory issue. Paggin and his brother Graffin have been building on our land and using up the resources that my brothers use for their own work."

"Are Paggin and Graffin here?" Peter asked, looking around the table.

Edmund followed his eyes down the row of people and let out a small breath of surprise when he saw Princess Adonia sitting between Susan and Lucy. She hadn't stepped foot in a meeting since she'd arrived. In fact, she was often off by herself, and he'd only had a handful of conversations with her. And one thing was still for certain—he could not figure her out.

Her stout, steadfast guard stood behind her, barely paying attention to the talking but as always had his feet apart and poised for action. As if a dwarf would suddenly leap across the table and head for Adonia.

She noticed him looking and nodded politely, tucking a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear and focusing on the dwarf who'd identified himself as Paggin. Edmund zoned back in just to hear him defending his brother.

"Graffin has not stolen any resources, King Peter, because the land that we are on belongs to _us_."

"It has always been in our possession, so I cannot see how you can make that claim you red bearded oaf," Binnbrik said angrily, narrowing his eyes at Paggin.

"Have you tried digging a trench?" a mole piped up from the corner.

_Not the trench talk again_, Edmund inwardly groaned.

"Your brothers stole the land from us, and we won't put it up with it!" Paggin said, ignoring the mole. "And who are you calling oaf, you Witch lover—"

"Enough," Peter said with an outstretched palm, silencing them with one sharp-edged word.

No one chanced a look at Edmund, and he was both grateful and ashamed. Every time the White Witch was mentioned, his blood froze a little, but his ears turned hot in embarrassment at the awful things he'd thought and done when he was younger. He still had dreams about it.

"We can argue for a very long time about land ownership," Peter said, lowering his raised hand, and adding noise to the silenced room. Paggin fumed as Binnbrik stroked his beard in anger.

"This is true," Edmund agreed, happy not to dwell on the subject of the Witch. "I don't think we'd ever reach a consensus or even a true answer."

"The forest is old—" Binnbrik began.

"—And so are you, but that doesn't mean you own it!" Paggin cut in.

"Kraster," Peter said, hailing one of his advisors, a wise man who'd once lived in Archenland but settled in Narnia years ago. The hair-thinned man popped into attention, his age not affecting his readiness. "You are in charge of the maps. Can you come to a consensus here?"

"Why don't you set up a clear division, and make sure it is agreed upon by both parties," Lucy suggested.

"And an equal amount, of course," Susan added.

"And not encroaching on already inhabited land," Edmund finished.

"Good idea, my lords. Binnbrik, Paggin, you can follow me to my study."

The dwarves, not entirely happy but somewhat satisfied, walked slowly behind him out of the large planked door. Edmund was glad they had settled one issue, and turned back to his brother.

"Next matter," Peter said, already tired as he flipped over his sheets. Edmund grinned and cracked his knuckles.

* * *

After finally attending a council meeting that lasted much longer than everyone expected and ended in Peter agreeing to the planting of an apple orchid, among other things, my legs longed to be stretched.

I walked down the hallway, wishing I had on riding pants or something a little more comfortable than a moderately puffy gray dress, but not really caring enough to go change.

Darrin followed briskly, my watchful shadow, but didn't speak a word when a hand fell rather abruptly on my shoulder.

I turned around, a hand to my chest to see Edmund standing in front of me with a guarded expression. He was a good head taller than me, but his eyes were so piercing I felt like they were right in front of my face.

"Hello King Edmund," I tested, wondering what his mood was. In the past few weeks, I'd seen it vary from carefree and sarcastic to angry and, well, sarcastic.

"Princess," he greeted, his eyes narrowing. "Are you taking a walk?"

"Um," I said, glancing toward the large front doors. "Yes."

"Good, I'll come along."

He said it simply—as if it were impossible that I'd refuse or he'd ask nicely. I felt my temper flare a bit, but kept my mouth shut. That had been my resolution here—to finally guard myself. If I was going to be Queen, which seemed inevitable, I had to keep myself in check, and I liked to think I was doing alright with it.

The two men at the door opened them broadly for us and we passed through, the sun immediately lightening my drab attire.

"What did you think of the council?" Edmund asked, strolling beside me with his arms unsure of what to do without a sword or a parchment in them. I watched him resign and tuck them in his pockets and smiled slightly.

"It was interesting," I replied, "A little...chaotic, but you and Peter handled things nicely."

"That's very diplomatic of you," he said, nodding.

I sighed, and furrowed my eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" I finally asked, after he stared at me for a moment.

"Nothing," he said, brushing it aside. "Will you be coming again? Although, I doubt anyone would notice if you did not."

"Excuse me?" I asked sharply, feeling my ears redden.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Edmund said, looking at me with pointed eyes. "I'm sure if you wore the low cut dress from dinner last night they would definitely notice."

"I don't know what you're playing at, but stop it!" I said, glaring at him. "King or not, that's no way to talk."

"Oh, so you _do _have a voice," he commented, a lazy smile drifting across his face.

His nonchalance made me even angrier. His smirk was also not helping the fact that my heart was leaping against my chest.

"What are you talking about?"

We had stopped walking and were now facing each other. I had crossed my arms and was waiting for an answer and hoping my skin would stop crawling as he stared at me with a placid, then confused expression.

"I don't understand you," Edmund finally said, breaking the silence. "You had a grand entrance here. You have a sharp tongue with me. But you had no mouth at all in council."

I gaped for a second. Here I was, thinking I was being respectful and proper, and he was _mad_ about it. He didn't even know me!

"I...it's not…" I stumbled over my words, trying to think of something witty and fitting, but settling for the simple truth. "My tongue has always gotten me in trouble. You're the first person to tell me to speak _more_."

Edmund smiled now, just slightly. It made him look a good deal more handsome—which made my flush even brighter.

"One perk of being royal is that people have to listen to you," Edmund said, patting the crest on his breast as proof. "Of course, that doesn't help with some of the stupider kings," he commented thoughtfully. "But you can be a King, or Queen, or Princess, and still be yourself."

"Why are you taking such interest?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at words that he had to have thought over, my arms dropping to my sides.

"I used to think no one heard me," he shrugged, scratching his neck. "And I did some regretful things because of it."

I nodded slightly, my heart calming but my mind still racing. Edmund's words were buzzing through my head as we started walking again, this time in silence. Was there a way to do my duty and not lose myself in the process? For some reason, I never contemplated it, because everyone had always thought I made such trouble.

"What if I say something wrong?" I asked suddenly, looking at Edmund.

"A tongue that does not get you in trouble sometimes isn't doing its job right," Edmund said with a smile.

I couldn't help but smile back, turning my eyes back to the grass lined way we walked. Edmund had slowed to match my pace, and I felt my heart tighten and bang against my ribcage faster again, but for very different reasons.


	7. Chapter 7

I wiped away the perspiration on my forehead, glad I had left my hair up and off my shoulders and I'd chosen just a simple, light green gown. The sun was particularly warm today, and after being outside for almost an hour, I could feel the burn dancing up my arms.

The castle was a cool retreat, the stones actually cold to the touch as I glided my fingers along the walls. Warner, a Narnian guard, followed me a few paces behind. We had gone only a few feet before Edmund appeared from the other direction. His hair was a bit messy today, but his eyes were as bright as ever as they landed on me.

"And where were you all day?" Edmund asked, surveying us with curiosity.

"I was brushing up on my archery skills," I said, stopping in front of him and smiling. "Warner was helping me improve so I didn't look like a complete fool beside Susan next time."

Warner's cheeks blazed the same color as Edmund's red shirt as the attention turned to him.

"Warner is good with a bow," Edmund commended, his wink not helping Warner's sheepish attitude.

"Thank you, your highness. And it was a pleasure, Princess," he said with a bow. "Would you like me to accompany you anywhere?"

"I'm in the castle now, I don't think I'll get too battered. Although, I thought that last time and you _did_ tackle me," I joked, wondering if he could turn a darker shade of crimson.

"I'm sorry again, Princess Adonia. It was a mistake—and I will help you as long as you need to make up for it."

"No no-what did I tell you Warner?" I asked, pointing a finger at him.

"Stop apologizing?" he asked in a small voice.

"Indeed," I said, smiling brightly. I would get him to have a sense of humor if it was the last thing I did.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you somewhere?" he asked with nervous eyes. "Lunch? Your room? The library?"

"No thank you, Warner," I said, patting his shoulder. "But archery tomorrow?"

"Of course, my lady," he said with a bow, his cheeks almost returning to normal color as he bowed the same to Edmund and walked down the hall.

"Would you like me to take you anywhere?" Edmund jested in Warner's higher voice as soon as he was out of sight. "Are you tired? Can I carry you? Shall I build a carriage you can ride around in?"

"Oh stop it!" I laughed, hitting his shoulder. "He's just feeling guilty over the bad first impression is all."

"Take my arm," he continued in Warner's exaggerated voice. "Please, lean on me. Accept me. Bear my children."

"Edmund!" I exclaimed, not bothering to hide the laugh that burst from my chest. "He's just helping," I waved it off with a smile, hoping my face did not portray my embarrassment as Warner's did.

"He's smitten, I'd say," Edmund concluded, offering his own arm to me.

"Like girls don't fall all over you. And you don't treat them very nicely—the feast when I got here was swarming with ladies vying for your attention and you avoided them like a disease."

"Don't turn this on me, Mrs. Adonia _Warner_."

"You don't let things go, do you?" I asked as we walked down the sunlight hall. His face gleamed almost white in the sunshine as we passed a shaft of light.

"Never," he said with a wide grin, his teeth sparkling like his eyes.

"You are very irritating," I commented, rolling my eyes in a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"It took you a month to notice?"

"Oh, I knew long before then," I chuckled, "But I didn't know if I could say it to your face yet. Royalty is sometimes not appreciative of insults."

"Just the insecure ones," he said with another bright smile. His face became instantly younger every time he grinned, and I couldn't help but match the gesture.

"Where are we going?" I asked, noticing that I did not know which grey stone passage we were descending.

"Lucy's study. I'd promised we'd join her and Mr. Tumnus for tea."

"You should have told me, I look like frightful," I frowned, looking at my gown which had dirt smudges where it trailed on the ground outside.

"You'll be next to me, Adonia," Edmund said as he straightened himself, "As if anyone will be looking at _you_."

"I have...no words for you, King Edmund," I laughed, shaking my own head.

"It will be fun," he insisted. "You can just blame me, my siblings like to do that too."

"Good idea," I chuckled.

"Peter might even pry himself away from the scrolls he loves, if Susan begs him nicely."

"Even better," I commented.

"Oh, and there's one more guest," he said.

"Who?" I asked, trying to think of who it could be.

"Warner, of course," Edmund said smiling wickedly. "He requested a seat on your lap."

I rolled my eyes. He just had to ruin it.

* * *

"Darrin, please go get some dinner of your own. I promise I'll just read and go straight to bed," Adonia begged.

"Promise you will not stay up too late. The candle strains your eyes," Darrin commanded, knowing that she could stay up into the hours of the night if she had enough light to illuminate her pages.

"I promise," she said seriously, but with a smile playing on her lips. He trusted her with certain things, but he knew she could never keep a straight face when she found amusement with something.

"Are you sure I shouldn't wait outside, just for a short time?"

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"You've been having nightmares the past few days—" he pointed out, wanting to explain his worry.

"I know," she cut off, looking around her. She seemed relieved to see no one was paying attention to them.

"You shouldn't be ashamed," he said, but lowered his voice nonetheless. "If you do, come straight to my room. We can go get a glass of water." He could protect her from most things, but her own mind was something he hadn't conquered. Her screams still made him feel like he'd plunged in cold water.

"Alright," she sighed, for once not arguing.

"I'll see you first thing in the morning," he said, nodding stiffly.

"Sweet dreams Darrin!" she called exaggeratedly as he walked down the hallway. His ears tinted red as he turned back and saw her waving brightly and blowing him a kiss.

No one could say she wasn't strange, but she certainly kept his life interesting.

* * *

My skin was scorching. I could feel rivers of sweat trickle down the back of my dress as I crept through the forest. It made absolutely no sense—the moon loomed above me, not the sun. Still, my hair matted to my forehead like wet brown reeds. I pushed it aside absently as I walked forward.

It was odd—I didn't know what I was looking for, but that didn't seem to stop my feet.

"You shouldn't be here," a small voice suddenly said.

I jumped, seeing a face that quickly disappeared to my left. It had sounded oddly like Lucy.

"Turn back," another voice added, and this time I saw a glimpse of Edmund's frown before the figure turned to mist and swept away.

"Where are you?" I asked, turning in a circle.

"Just go back!"

This time there was no face to match the voice.

But I couldn't stop. I had gone too far, and a magnet in my chest was pulling me forward, toward the heat.

I noticed the flames within a few paces. The leaves sheltered them a little, but I could see orange and yellow lick up between the spaces of bark and twig. At least I knew why rivulets of sweat were pouring from me.

"Stop it. You shouldn't see this."

This time, Darrin was the misty figure. He didn't disappear as quickly as the rest, but placed a hand up in front of me, beckoning me in the other direction. It flickered for a moment, its boundaries unsure, but as I stepped around him, he burst into a million pieces.

I wanted to stop then, but my legs wouldn't let me.

The fire was right in front of me. It looked alive, but it remained contained to one moving, eerily human shape. I squinted past the smoke and flames, covering my nose to keep the fumes from choking me.

"Hello?" I asked, looking around.

The fire moved closer.

I stepped back, squinting more until I realized the fire didn't just look human—it _was_ human. And it was moving toward me, its red eyes fixed on mine. I could almost feel my skin dripping from my bones.

I screamed and stumbled on a root, not able to get my balance as I fell towards the floor.

And then I woke up. My breath was stuck in my throat as the phantom smoke choked me. I coughed and sat up, immediately rubbing my eyes. I rubbed them again. Then I pinched myself, because I realized I hadn't escaped my dream...

I watched in terror as I looked at my skin, red and orange from the glow of the bed curtains and desk, which were all ablaze and crackling in the silent room.

My room was on fire.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry this took so very long!

* * *

The smoke choked me.

It was worse than the heat creeping up my arms as I moved as quickly as possible for the door. I clutched my nightgown to myself to make sure that the flames didn't devour the fabric.

I squinted through the fumes and the orange haze and saw that there was a path I could run to for my door. The doorknob was mocking me, the fire reflecting in its gold surface.

I clutched it and jolts of pain stung my palms.

The knob was scorching.

I looked around frantically, coughing as my head spun. There was nothing around me to help—my sheets were on fire, my clothes were in the other corner...it would have to be my hands.

Cupping my palms, I braced myself and turned the knob as quickly as possible. I could imagine my skin smoking as I cried out in pain and wrenched open the door. The air was clear and clean and I took a deep breath to make my head stop swirling.

The fire crackled behind me, like a reminder of what I had to do.

I took another deep breath and tried to ignore my red, throbbing hands as I dashed down the hall for help.

* * *

"Is your brother angry?" I asked.

Lucy looked surprise as she tightened the bandages on my hands, giving me an apologetic look as I winced in pain. The burns were fresh and angry, and sent sharp stabs up my fingers and arms, despite how gentle Lucy attempted to be.

"Peter? No, of course not, it was an accident."

"I can't help but feel I've been causing a lot of problems," I muttered, feeling the urge to wring my hands together but knowing it would hurt more than it was worth. Instead, I chanced a look at Darrin who stood like a statue in the corner, stern except for the slight worry in his eyes.

"Nonsense. They put out the fire. It didn't spread too far because of all the stone in the castle, but we'll find you another room."

"As long as you promise not to burn it down," Edmund voiced loudly from the doorway.

I shrugged my shoulders in embarrassment as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Keep your voice down, Ed," Lucy commanded, gesturing to the curtained bed next to us.

"Benjamin's in a coma, Lu, I doubt we're troubling him," Edmund said, rolling his eyes. "The fire is all under control," he announced. "But I'm afraid most of your luggage was burned."

"I could do without some of those dresses," I offered, thinking of their puffy, uncomfortable sleeves. I didn't care much about my clothing—and the only other things I had with me were my books.

_My books_.

I felt an internal quiver as I thought of the pages being smothered in flame. All my stories and my sketches reduced to ashes.

"We'll replace everything as well as we can," Lucy promised, patting my hand as if she'd heard my thoughts.

I was broken from my mourning by the sound of heavy boots. There was a large clatter as metal hit stone and the head of Warner popped into the room—wild eyed but apologetic.

"King Edmund, Queen Lucy, Princess Adonia," he sputtered, bowing to all of us. "I'd only just heard. I came to see if I could offer any assistance."

My glum attitude was broken by the very obvious strain of Edmund to contain his laughter. I felt awful that Warner had gotten so attached to me—the attention was nice, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"We are doing alright Warner, thank you," I said, smiling.

"Your hands...?" he trailed, looking at the fresh white bandages which looked crisp against my pink tinged arms.

"Burned on the doorknob," I said, flexing my fingers and then regretting it. I winced slightly. "But they'll heal, thanks to the expertise of Queen Lucy."

"And now, we are all tired," Lucy said, patting my shoulder lightly. "Come, we'll find you a room."

* * *

It was hard to use a bow and arrow with white bandages on your hands, and I didn't want to get so out of practice again. So the first time I was able to move my hands freely, I was outside.

"You're doing much better," Lucy commended as I lowered my bow and observed the mark I'd hit.

"Oh yes, I would have gotten a bullseye if the arrow had been about...ten inches to the left," I laughed.

"The wind was against you on that one," Susan laughed, her dark hair blowing behind her as proof.

"You don't seem to be having any problems," I mumbled with slight amusement. Susan was by far the best archer among us, but even Lucy was significantly better than I was. Warner hadn't gotten very far in teaching me before I'd injured my hands.

Susan smiled bashfully but I gave her an encouraging smile as she took another arrow from behind her.

"Hello ladies," a voice echoed from behind us, causing Susan to momentarily lower her arrow and break her stance. We turned around, seeing Edmund and Peter, slightly ragged and tired looking, but smiling nonetheless. Edmund seemed to be more erect and bright-eyed, and for that, I guessed that he had won the sword fight he and Peter were having while we practiced.

"Hello Peter, Ed," Lucy said brightly, "Who was the winner today?"

I couldn't help but smile at Peter's sudden deflated expression as Edmund triumphantly puffed out his chest and declared himself the victor. For one moment, it seemed that Peter was an actual young boy instead of a level-headed ruler, and I instantly liked him better for it.

"I did of course," Edmund said with a grin.

"It was very close," Peter added, with a purposeful look.

"I told him that it was a lost cause, and that he should just give up," Edmund bragged, ignoring Peter who rolled his eyes in frustration. "I was even a little rusty, but he just _had_ to push me."

I smiled as Edmund continued, and Peter caught my eye.

"What do you think Princess Adonia, does this prove I'm a terribly rotten King?" Peter asked with a smile.

"Of course not," I told him softly, letting the others carry on with their conversation. "I can't even boast about myself. Have you seen my arrows?" I asked, gesturing to the targets.

"They don't look so bad," he said with an easy grin, squinting in the distance.

"Those are Susan's," I said flatly. "Mine are the ones on the ground next to them."

He laughed as I sulked and Edmund seemed to realize we were not listening.

"What are you two on about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at us.

"We were just discussing if your head could grow any larger," I said, without missing a beat, and giving him my widest, most innocent smile.

"Excuse me!" Edmund exclaimed, putting a hand to his chest as his siblings all laughed around him.

"Sorry Your Highness," I said with a bow. "But my parents in Archenland could hear your boasting."

"I would challenge you to a fight if you weren't a girl," he said, crossing his arms in defense, but with mirth in his eyes.

"Oh _boys,_" Lucy said, rolling her eyes. "Susan could beat you with a bow any day."

"As much as I would love to test that, I have a meeting this afternoon," Susan said, gesturing to the guards to help her with her bows.

"This is not over," Edmund said, pointing at his sisters. "And by the way, you're my family, you're supposed to stick up for _me._"

"It's so hard when you're wrong all the time," Peter jested, clapping Edmund on the back.

"Alright," Edmund growled. "What do you say Adonia? Are you hungry or would you like to have a friendly competiton?"

"This seems like a bad idea," Lucy said, putting her hand to her forehead. "Her hands aren't completely healed."

"They're just fine," I protested, picking up my bow and arrow. "Let's see what you've got King Edmund."

As Susan, Lucy and Peter filed toward the castle, I flexed my fingers and hoped that my hands were fine. I still had some blisters, but they were healing and I hadn't aggravated them too much today. Plus, how could I pass on an opportunity to defend my gender to someone who didn't need any more praise?

"I'm going to get some arrows from your number one suitor," Edmund said, smiling in the direction of Warner, who was collecting Susan's arrows from the target.

I rolled my eyes and put my bow down for a moment, watching him greet Warner who bowed and almost dropped what he was holding. He was a good man—I resolved to try and find him someone better suited for him.

Edmund was walking back now, a great twinkle in his eye. It was irritating how handsome he could look when he wasn't trying, especially when he was being so...confident.

"What do you say—first to hit three bullseyes?" he asked, cracking his knuckles as he looked at me.

"Alright," I said, my hair dancing in the breeze. I pushed it aside and tried to determine which direction it was coming from so I could use it for my advantage.

"Princesses first," he said, giving me his widest smile.

I scowled at his arrogance but picked up my bow regardless and tried to breathe deeply. My hands were shaking the smallest bit, but I steadied them as much as I could as I lined up my shot. I squinted at the target and focused on just the red circle in the middle—nothing else. Not Warner watching from the side, not Edmund watching me closely, not even my heart pounding.

I let it loose.

Although I improved, I hit the first circle on the outside, two inches shy of the center.

"Not bad—"

"—Don't you dare say for a girl," I cut in before he could finish.

"I wasn't going to," he said, putting a hand up in defense but giving me a smirk.

"Let's see you go," I urged, sweeping my hand forward and letting him get into his own stance.

He positioned his feet a few times, pounding down the grass with his boots. It was funny how he was joking a moment ago, but his face now read completely severity. He bit his lip when he concentrated, which was actually endearing despite my growing competitive feelings. I held my breath as he shot.

...And the arrow landed dead center.

I tried my best not to show my anger on my face, and to my surprise, Edmund didn't gloat incredibly. He shrugged his shoulders in nonchalance, which was almost as worse, but at least he didn't say anything.

"Move over," I commanded, grabbing a fresh arrow.

"Oh demanding," Edmund joked, "I remember when you wouldn't speak a word."

"Did you prefer that?"

"I don't know yet," he said, smiling.

I squared my shoulders.

"Tilt your body a little more, if you will Princess Adonia!" Warner shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth to help the sound travel.

I nodded at him, not in the mood for criticism. I needed to be on target this time.

The tension coursed through my body, but I managed to calm myself enough to pull back my hand. And just as I let go, Edmund spoke.

"You'll want to—"

But it was too late. I didn't realize how close he had gotten, with his arm touching mine and his voice hitting my ear, I turned and shot at the same time. It would have been fine, if my arrow had fell to the side or flopped somewhere loosely.

But it didn't. Warner turned to flee but in an instant the arrow had already buried itself...right in his bottom.


	9. Chapter 9

How's that for quick updating! Thanks so much to reviewers, you keep the story alive. :)

Oh, and just a note: I realize as this goes on how horribly inaccurate it is, mostly because of all the human characters I have in Narnia. But, it fits in the story, and it's just for fun, so don't hate me too much! :)

* * *

The queen stared at the parchment and closed her eyes, wishing the words would disappear. There was already a headache lingering behind her eyes, but now it threatened to overtake her vision and smeared the words.

Still, she had already read what they said. Getting tackled in the gardens. A fire. Accidentally shooting a guard with an arrow.

She had sent away her daughter to learn decorum from royalty closer to her age, but it seemed like she wasn't learning anything at all. With Collin gone, Adonia was next in line for the throne—she had to learn to conduct herself properly, but she laughed at every attempt of her mother to help her.

Time was moving quickly—far too quickly. The queen couldn't even get out of bed some days, and her husband was growing pale with worry. If she knew that Adonia was ready, had a firm head on her shoulders, maybe she could relax. But it was obvious that she wasn't going to settle down on her own.

Darrin was with her, of course, but the man had grown far too close to Adonia. He had been first to offer to accompany her to Narnia, and she'd never heard him say a stern word to the girl. He would keep her safe, but he would not give her any firm direction.

She sighed and crumpled the letter. Quinton had been her faithful advisor for the past few years. She trusted his account was true. And he had also made an offer—his son's help. Davis, he insisted, would set Adonia straight once and for all and be her own advisor. It would be an honor if he could offer them assistance with this situation.

It went against her better judgment. Adonia had been through manners courses, had dancing instruction and education classes more than she could count and she still acted how she wanted. Sometimes she would only listen to her father. It seemed that when others told her what to do, she resisted even more than usual.

But the queen couldn't even get out of bed today. There was no way she could make the trip to Narnia herself, and the King never had the gall to properly discipline her.

She picked up a quill and began to write.

* * *

A week after my...shooting incident, I was accident free and trying my hardest to keep it that way. I devoted myself to helping around the castle—if I was going to shoot a guard and set some things on fire, I was at least going to compensate in some sort of productive way.

The fire actually made me think of it. In the wing of the castle I was staying in, there were rooms that were so rarely occupied that dust had settled in every nook. Susan had told me they didn't even know what was in some of these rooms. I was moved down the hall and consequently next to their rooms, but this wing still called me.

So I began to go through it.

"Oh, look at this Princess! Susan has been missing this—it must have been misplaced in here," Hannah cried.

I smiled at her as she held up a white shawl. She was at least ten years older than me, but her enthusiasm was as infectious as a child, and Lucy had recommended she help me with my venture.

"It's lovely. Isn't it Darrin?" I asked, mostly to see if he was still awake as he leaned against the far wall.

"Oh...um, yes my lady, it's nice."

"Doesn't Hannah look quite pretty in it?" I asked, wanting to make him even more uncomfortable.

He visibly choked as he straightened himself out and patted his throat.

"Of...yes, nice, of course..."

I smiled as Hannah's cheeks became crimson. She was outspoken and Darrin was stern, but they both clammed up around each other. I'd also learned that she was unmarried, and since Darrin could use a bit of cheering up...why not?

"Thank you, princess," Hannah muttered, her flush not disappearing as she gave me a small courtesy and an even smaller smile.

"How's it going in here?"

I had grown so fond of Lucy that to hear her voice made me perk up. It was strange—never in my life had I had a true girl friend. I'd only had Collin growing up, and a few noble girls that fussed about but didn't offer much in way of conversation. Lucy and Susan had taken to me so well that we now stayed up late simply talking to each other.

"Great!" I exclaimed, showing her the table of things I'd found. "There's a brooch I found under the bed, some candlesticks that would work great in the library, and Hannah found one of Susan's shawls."

"Wow," Lucy breathed, looking at the shining table. "This was a wonderful idea."

"Not to mention we can clean out these rooms and have guests..." I trailed off, remembering I didn't officially live here. "Not that I would have guests, since it's your home, but you—"

"—It's your home now, Adonia. Any guests would love to stay in here!" Lucy told me, her eyes glowing in excitement.

"I think so. It should be lovely."

"What's lovely?"

Peter strolled into the room, his shirt a dark blue and his face in a smile.

"Adonia's work is lovely," Lucy supplied, looking up at her brother. "Are you here to take me to the council?"

"I am. But Edmund wants to talk to Adonia first," he said, turning to me. "If you're ready to go, that is."

Lucy looked suspiciously at her brother and then to my confused face, but I merely shrugged and she accepted it.

"Yes, of course," I said, wiping some of the dust from my skirts. At least I'd wisely chosen to wear gray. "In his study?"

"Yes," Peter answered, giving the room a final nod. "And good work in here."

"Thank you," I said, smiling at him and Lucy as they turned to leave.

Lucy gave me a brief hug and waved to me before she disappeared around the corner. As I turned away from the door I noticed that Hannah had wandered over to Darrin and was talking in a low voice to him. His face, usually frozen in indifference was now visibly tense and alert.

I smiled.

"I need to go see King Edmund," I told Darrin, "It will be brief, but it's classified information, so he advised that I come alone," I lied, watching Darrin's face turn to slight annoyance. "I'll be back in a moment."

I slipped out before Darrin had a chance to argue, and hoped that he would put the time to good use. It was rare when I could convince him to leave my side.

Edmund's study was a good five minute walk from where I was, but I always liked walking through the castle. It was peaceful in a way, to go down long corridors that were empty but know that life was bustling just around the corner or behind the doors. And, quite different from the Anvard, there were people here that actually wanted to talk to me.

I knocked on the door and heard a muffled "Come in" from the other side. It creaked when I entered and Edmund looked up at me. His shirt was a dark brown, and I noticed against my will that it was the same deep color of his eyes.

It was weird to see him at a desk. He looked so natural outdoors, or walking, or answering questions from a throne, but at a desk he looked...tired. He rubbed his eyes and gestured to a red cushioned chair next to me, which I sat in slowly as I tried to think of what he had to say.

"I just thought you would like to know that we're having a visitor. From Archenland."

"Oh really?" I asked, my stomach unclenching. That wasn't quite a big deal. "Who?"

"His name is...um, what was it?" Edmund shuffled around the papers on his desk until he must have chanced across the right one. "Davis."

"Quinton's son?" I asked, thinking of my mother's advisor with his graying hair and sharp green eyes. I couldn't conjure up an image of his son, because I'd usually heard the name in conversation and not seen him in real life.

"How am I to know? Am I from Archenland? No," Edmund said, shrugging his shoulders with an angry huff. "Anyway, he's here for...diplomatic reasons," he said, letting out a drawn sigh.

I frowned and looked at Ed, who was avoiding my eyes. He'd never sounded quite so hostile and simultaneously deflated to me before. And getting to know him better than ever, I quickly deduced one thing...

"You're lying," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"What?" he asked, raising his dark irises to meet my own. "I am not."

"Yes you are!" I cried, watching his hands flicker in impatience..._for what_? I wondered. _Maybe a sword_.

"It was a courtesy to tell you in the first place," Edmund cried, "I don't have to explain myself to you, despite what you might think."

"Well excuse me for wanting to know the truth. I am the Princess of Archenland."

"Not that you act like it!" Edmund said hotly. "Shot anyone in the bum lately?"

"That was an accident!" I cried, thinking of Warner's poor limp. "And you're the one that distracted me. And you're doing it again—tell me the truth!"

"That is the truth," he said, slamming his fist down.

His actions made me look down at his desk, which made an idea form in my mind. He had to look at a letter to remember the name of the visitor, so the letter probably held what I was looking for.

I started to move around things on his desk, looking for the right one. It had been slightly yellowed and I think I glimpsed big broad strokes.

"What are you doing? Stop it!" Edmund said, trying to gather his papers back to himself.

I ignored his protests and saw the one I was looking for. Only this time, I recognized the hand writing—the swirly Ls, the exaggerated As—it reeked of my mother.

"Why would my mother...she's sending someone to look after me," I whispered, shaking my head. "How typical of her," I fumed, giving up my search as things clicked into place. "She wants me to be a mature, responsible ruler and the first thing she decides is that I can't make a decision myself."

"Well I agree with her," Edmund said, his temper still on fire as he straightened his things. "You do need some council."

"Excuse me?" I asked, my voice in danger of cracking.

"You are rash and selfish, you know that?" he asked. "You do whatever pops into your mind—do you think first? No. You're scared to speak up, but maybe that's best because your mouth is more trouble than it's worth!"

He hadn't moved but I felt like he had physically reached across the table and punched my stomach. The air fled in one fell swoop, but I tried not to gasp as I locked eyes with his seething ones.

I turned on my heel and practically ripped open the door. First my mother thinks I am incapable, and then Edmund agrees with her! He doesn't even know her! He doesn't know the awful things she thinks about me, and now he's saying those things himself. And to think just days ago I was joking around with him!

Peter almost ran into me as I turned the corner, but steadied me with quick reflexes and noticed my dark expression.

"Bad time with Ed?" he asked cautiously, tilting his head.

"Permission to speak freely?" I asked, the words almost lodging in my throat.

"Alright?" Peter asked, nervousness evident in his voice.

"He's your brother and a king," I said, my insides twisting. "But he makes me want to strangle him."


	10. Chapter 10

No this is not an illusion, it's really an update! I have no excuses for ignoring this story (well I do, but you don't care) so please enjoy if you're still out there and I promise to be less flaky in the future. :)

* * *

I suddenly had a very big suspicion that well spoken ladies I knew probably had a lot of hidden rage beneath the surface.

I didn't want my mother to have the satisfaction of knowing that I was acting immature, especially by verbally fighting with Edmund. So I tried to remain as polite as possible when we were forced into the same room.

Of course, a girl could inquire into the whereabouts of a certain King, innocently enough. And if those whereabouts happened to coincide with hers and she happened to take a different path, that was quite alright. It was a big castle after all...many places to go.

Davis, however, was harder to avoid, even though I wasn't entirely sure why I tried so hard to lose him. Maybe because he had a glowing recommendation from my mother. Already a bad omen.

Davis wasn't easy to hate, but he wasn't easy to like either. He was nothing like his father. He was polite, of course, and insanely well-mannered, but my mother's aid was quiet and sneaky and Davis was bold and competitive. Confidence is an attractive quality, but sometimes his breathed of insecurity. He was always looking to challenge someone, whether it be in wits or sport.

And although Peter would never be obvious about it, I could tell he disapproved. And Edmund...well, he would be obvious about it, and it was quite easy to read his face that he didn't like Davis much either.

He had only been here two days and had already requested a special meeting with me to "acquaint ourselves" and "discuss essential affairs" which so far I gathered would just be the usual complaints of my mother, only from his deep voice.

I had taken to walking everywhere, with Darrin in front this time to be on the lookout. Darrin was quite fast—with his trained senses and all—but sometimes there was nothing to be done when I was spotted.

And as I walked down the hall, stepping where sunlight hit the cracks of stone, I didn't see Darrin's signal—an upraised hand with his pinky down—and I almost walked right into his back.

"My lady..." Darrin began, but it was drowned out by the heavy thud of boots by the three taller men in front of me.

So here he was again, with Edmund and Peter beside him, making it a perfect storm of people I did not wish to see. Something about them together looked so...oddly incorrect. Davis was short but firm, with brown curling hair reaching to his shoulders. Edmund was far lankier but the way he walked made him seem the more formidable opponent of the two. Peter stood on the outskirts of course, with his blonde hair and steady eyes, but I was so used to him and Ed that they were parts of the same puzzle to me now.

What really clashed, however, was the misery apparent Edmund's face as he was forced into polite conversation, and the utter lack of regard on Davis's as he rambled on.

Don't ever get two competitive people together. Ever. It's hard to listen to and even harder to watch. I would've ducked the other way in that split second of time, but Davis had on his Adonia Radar and singled me out like a lion in a meadow.

"Princess Adonia! Please settle this lively debate we're having!" Davis was gleaming with perspiration, as if the conversation had been tiring. I felt his pain—arguing with Edmund sometimes qualified as physical sport.

"And what debate is that Davis?" I asked, surprised at how cheery my voice sounded to even my own ears. To be a princess was to be an actress, I supposed. In the worst of times at least.

"That Archenland does indeed have good fighters. King Edmund bets our lot wouldn't be able to stand their own, but I told him, oh yes we could! Your man in the armory, Darrill—"

"Darrius," I corrected, thinking of his patient voice explaining weapons to me.

"Oh of course, Princess. Darrius was an excellent coach, taught many a boy skills that could rival your guards."

"You two sounded close," Edmund remarked with a smirk, shaking hair from his eyes.

"Where are my manners? How are you Princess Adonia? Where are you headed?" Peter asked, squeezing my arm as he moved next to me. He winked and nodded his head toward the right, as if asking for help.

"Oh, um...is anyone hungry? I heard Lucy was inviting some guests for luncheon."

"Sounds excellent," Peter said with relief, letting out a breath.

I hoped for a moment that Edmund would carry on without addressing me, but in the next moment, his gaze was on my face. I don't know why my body disobeyed me in his presence, but I couldn't spot the heat that spread across my cheeks or the cage that now held my heart like a fluttering bird.

"Adonia," he said, nodding.

Although he'd said it plenty of times before, to hear my name without "Princess" or "my lady" attached sent a shiver through me.

"Edmund," I said curtly back.

We hadn't gotten past saying hello in the last week and half. I didn't expect him to apologize, but I did expect him to say _something_. I was starting to wonder if I wasn't even worth getting worked up. Maybe he didn't care enough to be angry or rude—he was simply passive and that wasn't like Edmund at all.

Every time I thought about it I got pains in my stomach. I could feel them hovering there now, aches that wouldn't go away when he was near me.

We started to walk, and I felt suddenly like running back to my bedroom and burying myself under the covers. But I didn't think Lucy would excuse my absence, and besides, I could avoid all the boys if I seated myself beside Susan at luncheon.

"Princess? You haven't backed up my point," Davis urged, with a smile that bordered on perplexed but maintained his smooth charm. "I hope your time in Narnia hasn't let your allegiances waver."

"Of course not, Davis," I said, my own smile quite false. I looked at Edmund, who was watching his footsteps and was physically as far from me as he could be. "I haven't met a single fighter here." I felt the pain in my stomach intensify. "Not one."

"There you go then," Davis said, outstretching his arm.

I took it, his muscles moving under my fingertips as he moved the conversation toward his appetite. I couldn't help but notice that my hand barely fit around his arm, and when I felt his warmth the bird in my chest quieted down until it didn't move at all.

* * *

Peter hung back slightly, and looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

"So you and Adonia are still fighting then?"

"How could you tell?" Edmund asked, scuffing his boot on the stone intentionally as he slowed his pace to let Adonia get farther.

"Brother's intuition. Why can't you just apologize?"

"I haven't done anything wrong, not really...it's complicated."

Peter sighed. He wasn't sure what was complicated about it. Silly? Yes. But complicated? Surely not...

"How long do you think this complication will last? We have to build fires to ice the chill between you two."

"I'm trying to starve her out...wait long enough until she comes to me, than I can approach her."

Peter almost laughed but decided to roll his eyes instead. Edmund didn't have a spectacular sense of sensitivity, but this was a whole new level of naïve.

"You can't use battle tactics on her," Peter sighed, "You're fighting a girl not a war.''

Edmund watched Adonia go arm in arm to the hall, her face transformed from the fierce, reddened scowl she had given him earlier. The last few days had been a hell for him, wondering if she'd explode or just continue to treat him with such suppressed anger that it made his head pound.

"Well I'm no expert," Edmund said, feeling the headache already forming, "But I fail to see the difference."

* * *

"The Ghost looks particularly ravishing tonight," Susan whispered conspiratorially as she leaned toward me.

I laughed, having to cover my mouth as I glanced at Davis's servant leaning against the far wall. His tufts of white hair were slicked as usual, but it was his gliding, mute manner that earned him our affectionate nickname.

"I think I'm a bad influence on you," I whispered back, my smile fading as the boys entered the room.

I managed to remain passably silent through most of the meal, sharing smiles with Susan when I got too bored to function. I listened to Davis tell stories across the table, and surprising enough, found myself laughing at some of them. I couldn't quite look in his direction because he was seated one chair from Edmund, but his voice was loud enough to carry.

"He's charming when he wants to be," Susan remarked, reading my mind. "But he doesn't have a King's charm."

Before I could ask her what he meant, I noticed the chatter around us had died.

"Davis if I hear you talk about your fighting skills once more, I'll challenge you myself."

Edmund's voice rang across the room, as if bouncing against every fork and leaving them hovering above people's plates.

"Pardon me, King Edmund, I was only telling a story to entertain, not to brag," Davis said, his voice quieter than I'd ever heard it, but still loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I'm starting to wonder if you know the difference."

"What he means is, we'd love to see your skills sometime," Peter interjected in his best diplomatic voice, giving Edmund a warning look.

"Actually, what I meant was to shove—"

"—Your sword into the air," Peter clumsily finished, his cheeks reddened as he clamped his hand on Edmund's arm.

Davis was red now, his brows knitted together as he realized the situation had intensified.

"Perhaps I should be excused. I've had a trying day," he said, rising from his chair. He briefly caught my eye but I could not read his expression.

We all watched in silence as he turned and beckoned the Ghost to follow him. He was already on his tail, his white hair gleaming in the candlelight next to the doorway. For the first time since he came, I felt a pang of sympathy for him.

I looked at Edmund, who was staring glumly at his plate, and wondered if the person I'd grown to like was not there at all.

His words echoed though my mind. _You are rash and selfish, you know that?_

Well he was being rash and selfish now. And why did someone like that make my heart ache?

I knew it would raise questions, but maybe it would get him out of my mind—so I did the one thing that I knew would hit him the hardest.

I rose from my chair and followed Davis.

* * *

Edmund actually stopped breathing for a moment when she stood up, her purple skirts swishing as she walked. She'd worn a new dress tonight, but he hadn't been able to compliment her, or say anything at all, because her eyes were fixed on her plate or on Susan. She'd always confused him, always sent him to the brink of his own sanity when she spoke, but now her intentions were clearer than ever.

By the time she reached the hall his mind was hit with it.

His plan was not working.

Peter squeezed his arm beneath the table but he barely felt it. The chatter around them resumed, but his siblings were quiet and he could feel their eyes on his skin. But he didn't really care about them-the one sensation he did feel spread cold throughout his limbs. His very bones could feel her absence, not because she was simply gone but because she was headed for the man he'd personally forced to leave.

So maybe she wasn't a war, but she was certainly a battle.

And with his eyes glued on the empty door, he wondered if he'd already lost.


End file.
